


lean on me

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Kid Fic, they're all bbs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-25
Updated: 2013-07-25
Packaged: 2017-12-21 07:28:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/897544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's new this year. Stiles immediately wants to know everything about her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	lean on me

**Author's Note:**

> ....another....teen...wolf...pairing...../cries
> 
> I told myself I wouldn't get sucked into this pairing, and yet, here I am.
> 
> This was written for a prompt I received on my tumblr, "Stiles/Cora; kid!fic." That being said, all spelling/grammatical errors are intentional in this, because the narrator is only six, ah.
> 
> I am so sorry

She’s new this year.

Stiles has never seen her before--Stiles has never seen a lot of people before, because he's only six and three quarters; young but old enough to know that being able to count the number of people you know on two hands isn't very many people at all--and he's instantly curious. They don't get new kids that often. Beacon Hills is a tiny suburb off of an even  _bigger_ town, or, well, at least he thinks it is.

She's small, though, tinier than Stiles by far (Stiles isn't exactly looming himself, either. He's the smallest boy in his class, and Ennis never feels shy about pointing it out to him, multiple times a day, sometimes more, if he can get away with it. Stiles doesn't hate Ennis--his dad says he's much too young to be filled with an emotion so old--it's a close, though. But, what he lacks in height, he makes up in heart. That's what his mom says, anyway, but his mom is supposed to like him, so he thinks she's probaby a little iased) with straight brown hair and big brown eyes.

Stiles immediately wants to know everything about her. He wants to know what her favorite before-naptime game is, what her favorite color is, and how she gets her fingernails to be that vibrant, pretty blue. Stiles is vibrating on the edge of his chair with it, how badly he wants to know her.

"Who is that?" Stiles whispers, loudly, hitting Jackson across the chest.

He should know better, which is why he expects the swipe in return before Jackson even moves. "This is Hilfiger, Stilinski! Hilfiger."

Stiles furrows his eyebrows, confused. "Is that a color?"

Jackson sighs, way more dramatic than any six-year-old has a right to be, and shakes his head. "You're hopeless."

"Who is that?" Stiles asks again, pointing quite rudely to the girl who is sitting next to Erica. Stiles likes Erica, she's funny and smart and doesn't make fun of him when he brings in Batman comics to read at recess instead of playing kickball with the other boys.

"'Nother nerd," Jackson says, flippantly, but Stiles stopped caring about his personal opinion after he slathered non-toxic paint on his face and told him he was unrecognizable (he was recognizable--he got sent home that day for smearing paint on the boy's bathroom walls).

 Stiles narrows his eyes at Jackson, but doesn't say anything. "I like her anyway," he says, decisevely, and turns away before he sees the way the girl's head tilts just slightly, as if she had heard him.

*

When Stiles' mom picks him up from school that afternoon, he's chatty with it, talking about the new girl with her pretty blue nails and brown eyes, and her sweet, nectar voice that he doesn't mind listening to--girls are gross, normally, but he doesn't think she is; she's different, and Stiles likes that.

His mom's eyes dance as she asks, "You like her?"

Stiles thinks about it for a second, because he doesn't know her, but he wants to. He's never wanted anything more, not even that brand new Hot Wheel set he put at the top of his list for Christmas. "I'm going to be her friend," he says, true.

*

It takes Stiles three days to work up the nerve to talk to her.

She doesn't look mean, but Jackson didn't look mean either, and now he's one of Stiles' least favorite persons. He's nervous, bouncing off the walls so much that their teacher refuses to let him sit around at recess like he usually does. She sends him off to go burn off the extra energy rattling his bones, and he finds himself in front of her, shaking.

She's has brown dots speckling her cheeks, not unlike the couple of darker ones that had popped up on his skin, and it's what gives him the courage to plop down next to her. 

"Hi!" Stiles chirps, brightly. She's sitting alone. Stiles doesn't like that.

The girl just stares at him.

Stiles fumbles, because no one has never not said hi to him before. He flushes, not just from the heat, and asks, "Oh. Are you death?" 

His eyes widen, and he puts his hands out in front of him in indecipherable symbols. "If you are, I still want to be your friend. I think that's okay, if you're death. You're still really nice. I can feel it." Stiles says, trying to comfort her, even if she can't hear him.

She eyes him for a couple more seconds, before a tentative smile lifts the corners of her mouth. "It's deaf."

Stiles blinks. "What is?"

She doesn't try to hide the giggle that escapes her lips, and it makes Stiles smile in return, knowing that he was enough to make her laugh. "You asked me if I was death. Death means dead. Deaf means you're unable to hear."

"Oh," Stiles says, nonplussed. "You're really smart."

"I know."

*

"I'm Stiles," he introduces a while later, and holds out his hand, like he's seen his dad do whenever he meets new people.

She stares at the hand, before eventually girpping it in her own. Her palm is smooth against his, and Stiles wouldn't mind holding it forever. She's definitely not gross. 

"I'm Cora."

_Cora_.

*

"Her name is Cora," Stiles says, as soon as he reaches his mom.

She ruffles his hair, and beams down at him. "Whose is?"

"My new friend's," Stiles answers. 

*

Stiles starts sitting next to her during storytime, and recess, and even manages to convince his teacher ("But Jackson is mean!" Stiles exclaims, because Ms. Harper isn't listening to him, isn't getting how much he  _really_ doesn't want to sit by him anymore. "He's mean, and rude, and always messes up my best paints,") to move their seats closer together.

Stiles can feel the burn of Jackson's stare like a fire at the back of his neck, but he decides that it's worth it when Cora's face lights up as he slides the newest issue of  _Batman_ over to her. 

Cora has always been better than Jackson, anyway.

*

Cora's older brother is  _terrifying_.

"I don't like him," Stiles tells her, in confidence, one morning during recess.

Her brother is Derek, and Derek is mean, and looks at him weird whenever he thinks Stiles isn't looking. He's four years older than them, and thinks that just because he's bigger he can boss Stiles around. Stiles doesn't like him, will probably never like him, and he feels sorry for Cora; she's _related_ to him.

That must be tough.

"I do," Cora says, fingering the loose threads of her dress between her fingers.

"I don't think he likes me very much." Stiles amends, because he knows from the angle of her mouth that he's upset her. He's never felt gultier. "He always looks at me like he wants to eat me."

"That's just Derek," Cora says, a little brighter. "Big sister Laura says that he's emoitonally cinstipated."

"What's that?" Stiles asks, wrinkling his nose.

"I don't know," she shrugs. "But, it sounds gross."

"You don't think he hates me?" Stiles asks, because he's only six, and the thought of someone disliking him, even someone as scary as Derek, makes his stomach ache.

"If he didn't like you, he wouldn't let me talk to you."

"Yeah?"

"Yep."

*

"We should have a sleepover," Stiles suggests.

Cora frowns. "A sleepover?"

"Yeah," Stiles says. "My older cousins have them all the time. It's where friends sleepover at friend's houses and they have pillow fights and build blanket forts and eat a lot of ice cream, or something. Ours will be cooler though."

"Why?"

"'Cause it's us, silly."

*

They don't have a sleepover.

Stiles pretends he doesn't cry in his room about it when Cora tells him her mom said no.

*

Cora makes it up to him by letting him have her chocolate chip cookie her sister packs her at lunch the next day.

Stiles breaks it in half, because he likes it better when they share.

*

It's a few weeks later when Stiles realizes.

"Are we friends, Cor?" Stiles asks, unsure. He's never asked her that question before, and he's afraid of the answer. Anxiety is building in his chest at the thought of them being anything but, and like she senses it, her arm slides around his shoulders.

"The bestest," She confirms.

Stiles has never smiled so big.

**Author's Note:**

> Please excuse the horrible title, I suck at naming things.
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](http://ocrien.tumblr.com/)!


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